


101 Trash Nebula Friends

by Rueitae



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, but only two trash friends are in this fic, definitely inspired by the opening to 101 Dalmations, unfortunately
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 16:10:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18854491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rueitae/pseuds/Rueitae
Summary: Pidge has a problem. Her trash nebula friends keep floating away, and that's dangerous around high tech aircraft. She finds a solution that ties things up nicely. Literally.





	101 Trash Nebula Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this [work of art](https://mistyhollowpro.tumblr.com/post/184916936036/my-first-commission-ever-is-done-a-big-thanks-to) by [Mistyhollowdrummer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyhollowdrummer/pseuds/mistyhollowdrummer)

Two pairs of sorrowful eyes and glowing markings stare up at Pidge, breaking her heart. Tears well up in her eyes as she looks up at Iverson, speaking with a broken voice, “But it’s not  _ fair _ . All they do is float, they aren’t hurting anyone!”

Pidge can tell that he nearly caves. His good eye looks with sympathy over the two trash nebula beings that she holds protectively in her arms, face taken aback by her emotional plea. 

But the roar of the MFEs taking off for their scheduled field training shake him out of it.

“I can’t let you do it, Holt,” he says with a remorseful sigh. 

“Look at how sad they are!” Pidge argues. “They just want some fresh air! They’re used to being free!”

He raises an eyebrow. “Cute as they are,  _ Chip _ shows more emotion than them.” 

Pidge tries to think of a retort, but both Blue and Green blink, showing no sign the conversation even affects them. 

Iverson rests a hand on his face and sighs. “If you want the little fellas to float around in the lab, fine, but they’re a hazard to flight operations. If Griffin wasn’t as good a pilot as he is…”

He didn’t have to finish. Pidge winces at the fresh memory of James averting his landing to avoid hitting the Blue. How he even managed to see it is still a mystery, but Pidge is grateful for it. 

Pidge sighs, perhaps a bit dramatically. “I understand. I’ll… figure something out. Thank you, Sir.”

He salutes her, and Pidge gives him a half-hearted one back. Fear seizes her heart as Green escapes from under her wing. She hastily nabs it, hugging it back to her chest, giving a skeptical Iverson a smile that she hopes says ‘everything is fine’. It makes her feel as if she’s a cadet again, still hiding behind an alias. 

Iverson isn’t impressed. “Shape up your arm, Holt, your pilot candidates are coming in later today.” He walks away, back towards the runway where the MFEs are already coming back in for their touch-and-goes. 

Pidge slumps, annoyed. So much for not being a cadet anymore. Did being a defender of the universe count for nothing?

“I’m sorry guys,” she tells the puffball aliens as she drags herself back to the lab. “It’s not as dangerous as space, but there’s a lot going on around here you’re not used to.” 

An orange dot blinks on the HUD on her glasses. Pidge groans. Orange indicates someone associated with the Galaxy Garrison is contacting her, and the last thing she wants to do is talk work right now. 

(She knows who she wants to talk to, but he isn’t here. Lance would figure out an unconventional solution to the dilemma facing her small alien friends.)

Still, she’s a popular person these days with the Defenders project getting off the ground. That’s important enough she has to answer. 

“Answer comm,” Pidge says lifelessly. The dot enlarges and projects a hologram before her.

It’s not work.

“Mom!” she exclaims, mood instantly lifted. “You must be calling from the Greenhouse. I didn’t recognize your code.”

Colleen looks up from inspecting an alien fern. Pidge recognizes it from one of the seeds that got stuck in her armor the last time she walked on a dying Olkarion. For just a moment it makes her heart light. 

“Sorry, your brother took my communicator.” She narrows her gaze suspiciously. “He’s planning  _ something _ with N-7, but he won’t tell me  _ what _ . He hasn’t told you, has he?”

Pidge hasn’t spoken with Matt for weeks, now that she thinks about it. “I thought he was with Dad on Altea?”

Maybe sending the two of them into space with Shiro is testing fate, regardless if they have the entire crew of the Atlas with them this time.

“He is but,” Colleen huffs. “Are you nearby and free? Bae Bae has been trying to eat the juniberries again. I need to finish this report  _ today _ .”

Pidge bites her lips. “But I’ve got the pilots coming in today. I can’t program Chip to do the introductions last minute.”

“And I’m sure they’ll love to meet Bae Bae!” Colleen smiles, but Pidge knows her mother well enough to hear the  _ order _ behind it. “Swing by as soon as you can!”

Colleen winks and waves Bae Bae’s leash across the screen, then cuts off communication before Pidge can launch a protest. 

“I guess you guys are getting a playmate today,” she tells the aliens.

They blink. Pidge can’t tell if they’re oblivious, don’t care, excited, or want to conquer Earth.

“Too bad I can’t walk you guys  _ with _ Bae Bae,” Pidge says regretfully. “You’d need leashes too to keep you from floating off.”

The cheek markings glow, and it’s as if a lightbulb goes off in her head. 

~~~~~

Walking around the Galaxy Garrison is ten times more difficult with a dog who wants to befriend everyone and two alien fluffballs who just want to float aimlessly and smell the flowers. 

Metaphorically speaking that is, since they hover well above her head in fear that Bae Bae might actually reach them when she jumps. Not that Bae Bae  _ wants _ to eat them, but even Pidge admits Bae Bae’s play can be… rough. 

When is Keith coming to visit with Kosmo?  _ That’s _ who she needs right now as she’s pulled across the commons. 

“Bae Bae! No! Stop! Bad!” Pidge yelps as thirty-five pounds of dog rams into a poor officer on his way to the hangars.

Green and Blue float next to her, their little I.D. tags clinking softly against the harnesses. She took the tags from the scrapyard and soldered their names and hers on them. The leather cords come from the old drama club’s costume department. No one has quite had the time to restart the fine arts programs since the invasion.

It was too bad. Maybe one of these afternoons she can dig out the grand piano and see if she remembers how to play.

The man laughs good naturedly and gives Bae Bae pets and scratches behind the ear as Pidge approaches. 

“I am so, so sorry,” she says breathlessly. His green tinted uniform gives her pause; it’s the color that the Galaxy Garrison uses at the Australian bases. He’s a  _ visitor _ . 

“It’s no trouble at all!” he says jovilly, stroking Bae Bae’s back. “I love dogs. It’s good to see lively animals after the invasion destroyed so many ecosystems.”

A sting of guilt pinches her stomach. She’s the so-called guardian of the forest.…

Pidge resolves to help her mother in the greenhouse more often. She owes it to the Green Lion’s memory and the bond they shared. 

For now, she may as well be helpful. “Can I help you find someone?” she asks. 

He flashes a smile at her that sets her heart thumping for a different reason, a reminder of who isn’t here. “I’m here for the Defenders Initiative.” He looks at his watch. “It’s in Hanger 12 and it starts in ten minutes. Led by -- “

Pidge inhales sharply. “ _ Me _ . Oh quiznak I don’t even have my slideshow and I can’t -- take Bae Bae for me, she seems to like you! I’ll see you at the meeting!” 

Pidge throws the end of the leash at the man - officer - pilot - who she doesn’t even know the name of and books it back towards her office. 

She pulls and throws open the door to the officer’s area, her boots clattering on the floor of the narrow hallway. Three doboshes left - and those aren’t even full minutes! The pilots are probably all waiting for her in the hangar  _ already _ \- her flashy presentation will be ruined if she’s late and quiznak she wants to show off these vehicle designs so  _ badly _ .

_ The Green Lion has an inquisitive personality and needs a pilot of intellect and daring. Pidge, you will pilot the Green Lion. _

The scene plays in her mind as her body goes on auto-pilot. Pidge wants to deliver that same wonder and joy to a pilot that Allura had given to her. Being late will ruin the magic of the moment.

But not any more than Allura not being here in the first place ruins it. None of this is possible without her - none of them would  _ be here  _ without her.

“Out of the way! I’m  _ late _ !”

Half a heartbeat after Pidge realizes that the voice isn’t hers, a rock hard chest hits her in the face. 

Everything Pidge understands about the laws that govern the universe insists that she, typically the smaller of any two people, should bounce off the other. Instead, she rises to her tip-toes and falls forward with a yell of surprise, pressed tightly against the taller body.

He yelps in pain as they hit the floor. Though disoriented, Pidge recognizes that cry - how can she not? Not after fighting side by side for years, sharing a space inside each other’s heads, and listening to his pained scream over and over again on the security feeds as he shields Coran from the blast.

“Pidge?” he asks in awe, as if he’s not sure he’s actually seeing her. 

She props herself up on her hip, one palm on the floor and the other pressed against his tailored officer’s uniform - where did he get that and why was he -- ?

“Lance?” she responds, equally astonished. She’s happy to see him, though unexpected, and a warmth fills her face.  _ Embarrassment for this situation _ , she tells herself. “What are you doing here? I thought you were on the farm?”

He grins, that perfect easy-going Lance smile that can disarm even hardened hearts. It’s a fact she knows from the way he peeled back her layers of friendship - despite her initial reluctance - from the time they met in these very hallways to fishing for alien coins in an alien mall. 

“What? Aren’t you happy to see me?” he teases. His eyes wander around the scene. “Your little friends look like they are.”

Pidge now sees why she’s tumbled to the floor with Lance. Blue and Green hover above them, looking as smug as she thinks she’s ever seen them. Their makeshift leashes entangle her with Lance, the cords wrapped around their upper bodies.

Those little quiznakers…

And yet neither she nor Lance has moved from their increasingly awkward situation.

Pidge pushes off of him and scoots backwards, her legs propelling her out of the trap. Because that’s what it is - a trap. She can’t count the times she’s mentioned her teenage crush to them in confidence, thinking they’d never be able to tell a soul, much less the crush himself. 

Now they’ve forced her to  _ literally _ crush him. Pidge groans, unable to appreciate the pun in her fluster.

“I thought you were bringing the mutations next month, you could have told me you were coming early,” she says as he sits up, untangling himself as she speaks and a bit offended he  _ hadn’t  _ told her he was coming. “And why are you wearing the old officer’s uniform? You have your Paladin one.”

Lance dusts off his sleeves and stands, offering a hand to her to do the same. She takes it, his hands much firmer but no less gentle than she remembers, and it makes her a delirious sort of happy. He’s helped her up so many times, but here there’s no Paladin armor gloves between their skin. 

Pidge now notices the cardboard box, filled with office supplies and personal knick-knacks, chief among them a recent picture of his family. Her heart thumps - is Lance rejoining the Garrison?

Green, the little traitor, sits on his shoulder, nearly nuzzling his cheek. “I didn’t want to stand out too much,” he says. “You put the call out for pilots, right?” He spreads his arms wide, his smile nearly as bit. “I’m a pilot, so here I am!”

Pidge gapes. She doesn’t have the heart to tell him that with his gifted Altean markings, there’s no way he can ever fit in. And since when has he ever tried to be subtle?  It’s almost a shame, since one of his strengths is to easily mingle with a crowd and hide in plain sight. So she chooses to latch onto the second thing he told her. 

“Yeah, for the Defenders Initiative,” she clarifies. “Lance, you’re a Paladin. The point is to have a system in place if the Lions never come back - but if they do, you’re still Red’s pilot.”

His arms drop lamely to his side as he sighs. “Yeah, I figured you might say something like that. I overhead Veronica talking to your dad about it.” He smiles sheepishly, almost comically. “Well, not overhead, exactly. Veronica dragged me over to the phone and your dad told me you’d contacted the other Galaxy Garrison bases for the best pilots.”

Pidge bites her lip, unsure where he’s going with this. “Yeah, you  _ are _ one of our best pilots. You’re also a Paladin.”

Lance’s cheeks turn a shade of pink as he coughs. “Sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming; your dad made it sound like you were super busy and it really got me thinking. I just - I’m ready to help, Pidge,” he says as if pleading a case to a jury. “I can’t throw myself into work like - like the  _ rest _ of you can. But I do want to do something more to lighten your loads, so...here I am.”

“Here you are,” Pidge echoes dumbly, still in shock that he stands before her. Having Lance here isn’t a waste. The MFEs know their way around the vehicles like the back of their hands, but with the number of new pilots they’ll have to introduce to the Altean-based systems… his experience will be indispensable. 

This year’s class of cadets is large and Iverson is the only flight instructor here, the others filling in for fallen colleagues across the globe.

Pidge smiles, the prospect of Lance being around for good filling her heart with joy. “I think there’s plenty for you to do around here.” She puts her hands on her hips. “The officer’s uniform looks good on you.”

“It does?” Lance squeaks, eyebrows raised in surprise. “I- I mean of course it does,” he says, getting his voice back under control and lowering a bit too much past his usual tone. “I’d look good in a trash bag,” he brags as he straightens his collar. 

Pidge can’t stop a snort of laughter, barely covering her mouth in time. “I - your new students might like to see that.”

I? _ I?!  _

Fire rages beneath her cheeks and she wants to scream. Disappear. Maybe the Green Lion can teleport her to wherever the Lions are. Get a  _ grip _ , Holt!

Lance gapes at her. “My new students?”

“Come on,” Pidge gestures, relieved he didn’t seem to catch her slip. “You too,” she glares at Blue and Green. The aliens navigate their way towards her, and the door. “I’m late for my own talk, but”--the heat on her cheeks flows to her heart--“I’m glad you were the reason.”

He steps into pace with her. “I’ll take you out to dinner as an apology for making you late; how’s that?”

“Great!” Pidge says, voice coming out a bit higher than she’d like. “Afterwards I can maybe...show you around?”

Lance laughs. “I went to school here too, you know, for almost four years before you came along.” He nudges her shoulder in true teasing fashion.

It’s utterly embarrassing. 

“I’d settle for some gaming though,” he offers. He rubs the back of his neck in nervous fashion. “And, well, your lab changes practically every day if it’s anything like back on the Castle… I’d really love to see all the cool stuff you’ve been working on. I missed your science talk.”

The knots in her chest loosen at his sincerity and in excitement. He won’t understand what she talks about, and it doesn’t matter. It’s enough that he cares to ask and  _ wants _ to understand, and that he won’t lead her into a trap like her middle school bullies. He’ll play video games with her, he’ll comfort her from nightmares - of Voltron failing to save the universe - and in the same breath he’ll be the distraction and reminder that there is plenty of good in this universe to defend.

She loves that about him. She loves  _ him _ . 

That’s why Pidge smiles and says, “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/)


End file.
